


A Logical Purge: A Bolly Story

by Skunkape_of_Florida



Category: Ben Shapiro - Fandom, Leftist - Fandom, Marx - Fandom, Oliver Thorn - Fandom, The Purge (Movies), Youtubers, communism - Fandom
Genre: I just don't respect him enough to go and change it, I know I spelled Ben's last name wrong, M/M, My first fan fic, Same with Jemmifer, The Purge, This was a bet but here i am actually publishing it, also abolish ICE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 04:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skunkape_of_Florida/pseuds/Skunkape_of_Florida
Summary: This was inspired by a youtube video and a bet with a friend.
Relationships: Ben and Oliver, Bolly - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	A Logical Purge: A Bolly Story

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a youtube video and a bet with a friend.

** A Logical Purge**

** We Have No Direction**

It was a brisk December evening, Ben Sharpio, a 20 something flat top round bottom faced man was walking out of a One Direction Concert that he had attended with his loving wife Jemmifer. 

Ben hated this, he hated One Direction, and as a master of the violin, he knew what REAL music sounded like and this…this… trash was not it. He had protested the entire affair, first his wife’s incessant talking about it, then her purchase of the tickets, and the purchase of the hotel and plane tickets. It was only after months of her wearing him down and a stern talking from their marriage consular that Benny has finally relented and agreed to go.

Suddenly, Alarms start blaring, WOOON WOOON WOON WOON, Jemmifer, and Ben are startled. What could this mean? Ben looks around to ask a bystander but is flabbergasted to see a father of 3 daughters suplexing a random man to the ground and his 3 lovely girls stabbing the now floored stranger. Jem and Ben sprint away from the scene into a crowd of confused concert goers. Like a heard they all start running down the street, across intersections, over cars. It is like a swarm of humans all running in fear. 

Jem being the superior athlete of the two is several paces in front of Ben. He is doing is darndest to keep up with her, but the constant shoving and Ben’s own physical weakness is keeping him back. Lights wash over the crowd and in a flash the One Direction tour bus bisects the crowd, mowing countless people down. Ben stops only for the wave of people to crash into him and slam his head against the passing bus and then the ground. Like a burnt-out lightbulb, everything goes dark with a crack.

**Move**

Ben woke to the rising sun. Around him were a mass of bodies, some run over, some trampled, others killed at the hands of unknown assailants. A thick coagulated blood sludge ran down his vision as he sat up and tried to stand. Luck or God had saved him, but he would need to find medical attention if he wanted to continue living.

As Ben wandered the empty streets, the sights he saw scarred his eyes and mind. The broken humanity laid before him sickened him. But with each corner he turned he assumed he would grow use to it, desensitized, but there was always some fresh hell waiting for him that would challenge that assumption. 

After walking for what seemed like hours Ben finally walked into a busted store, found a can of beans and ate them. He was getting through his fifth can when he heard rustling in the store. Ben Peers around the shelf corner, at the front door he spots a gang of youths wearing white hockey masks, their identities obscured. Ben slowly begins to inch towards the back door but in his nervous haste he neglected to consider the bean can stack he had been building, and they all came down with a clatter. Wasting no time and not looking back Ben sprints out the back door. He can hear the youth yelling and in hot pursuit of him. Turning left and then right and doing his darndest to lose his pursuers Ben is exhausting himself, he makes a wrong turn and finds himself running down a dead end. Ben is afraid, he looks around the ally hoping to find a door, a dumpster, anything to hide from his possible killers. Then, like a miracle in the shape of a door, a door opens, and a commanding British man tells him to get in. Ben, not questioning the command runs headlong into the dark doorway.

** The Miseducation of an Intellectual**

This strange man leads him down the dark hallway holding Ben’s hand and stopping to ensure that Ben would not stumble on the unmaintained floor. The pair arrived at a locked door that the mysterious stranger unlocked by entering a code.

As the door closed behind them the stranger flicked a switch and the lights came on. Before Ben was a basic kitchen room, a table in the center fridge flushed against a wall, a stovetop and an oven and 3 other doors on the 3 other walls.

The Stranger stood before Ben towering over him. Ben a meager 5 foot 7 and this stranger over 6 feet. Ben stared at him, his savior, admiring his poof of dark hair, his pale skin, his goatee, and his broad shoulders. Ben lost in the stranger’s physical appearance had lost track of time and had let an awkward silence form.

The Stranger spoke, “Are you alright”? Ben, stumbling for words, “yeah I am fine”. The stranger looking over him, unconvinced was about to ask if he was sure when Ben blurted out “thanks again for saving me, it means a lot”. The stranger taken aback by this sudden gust of words stared for a hot second before saying “you’re welcome, anything to help my fellow man after all.” “My name is Oliver, Oliver Thorn by the way” the stranger said. _Oliver Thorn_, Ben’s mind ran over the words delicately savoring the man’s wonderful accent. “I am Ben Sharpio” Ben said as quickly and as nasally as a weasel on coke. “I know” Oliver replied. “I have seen your videos on the internet” Oliver continued. Ben stood there flummoxed. _My videos?_ A thousand and one thoughts raced through Ben’s head. “_He must be a fan!”_ Ben thought, “Well, I am always humbled to meet a fan,” Ben said. He extended his hand to shake Oliver’s. Oliver stared for a moment before extending his “Never said I was a fan” Oliver replied. Ben didn’t know how to respond. The previous thousand and one thoughts vanished. Now a new set raced through his mind and his blood pressure rose with each one. “_Could he be a leftist? A socialist? Maybe he wants to kill me? Harm me? Oh no!”_. Oliver, sensing Ben’s unease broke the silence offering his guest a drink of water. As Ben gulped down the freshwater he asked “What happened? What happened out there? Why is everyone acting crazy?” Oliver remaining as cool as an ice cube replied “oh, don’t you know? It is purge month. A sordid affair where there are no laws for an entire month”. Ben stood there wide-eyed. Oliver continued “I figured you would know about it considering your vocal support of the right-wing parties that started it”. Ben still wide eyed muttered out “N..nnn….no!” “I had no idea” Ben said trying to regain his confidence_. _“Well,” Oliver replied. “It is a month dedicated to getting out all the aggression, rage, and pent up emotions that living can incur, but what it ends up being is a bunch of poor people slaughtering each other as the rich stare from their ivory tower in amusement.” “I am really surprised you haven’t heard of it, but then again you do tend to speak on things you know little about” Oliver replied coolly. Ben didn’t know how to respond. Oliver taking Ben’s silence for exhaustion offered him a bed. Ben followed still silent as Oliver showed him his sleeping quarters and explained where the restrooms and linens were, along with a fresh change of clothes. 

Hours later, Ben freshly showered and changed walked towards his bed. His mind still filled with thoughts of the hell he has been through; the one direction concert, the purge, his wife missing, the horrors he has seen, and now he is in some underground bunker with a possible leftist. It was almost too much. Ben decided we wanted some water, so turning course from his bed he walked out of the hallway and out of the door into the kitchen. Opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle Ben noticed a vibrant red light emitting from the frame of one of the other doors. Ever curious Ben walked over and slowly opened the door. He looked through the slim crack he had made and his mouth about dropped. It was a sex dungeon, fully loaded, fully equipped. He saw a Saint Andrews Cross standing in the middle bathed in the red light, he saw on the right wall an entire collection of leather whips, ball gags, an O-ring gag, restraints, leatherwear, and so much more. Ben quickly shut the door and sprinted back to his room. 

As he laid in bed, his mind raced even faster. At this point, his heart was ready to give out. “_A leftist and a sex fiend??”_ Ben thought. He was stunned. He had no words forming in his inner monologue, no reactions outside of shock. 

Ben would eventually try to sleep but the entire night he would toss and turn, scarred by the last few days, but unbeknownst to him, something had awoken inside of him. A desire, whose fire was just getting started. 

** Taboo**

The days dragged on with Oliver trying to be nice and courteous to his guest, but Ben would keep the conversation short and only reply with grunts and affirmatives if he could. Oliver assumed it was just Ben being upset and feeling awkward after their confrontation, but Ben knew it was something else. The fire which started as embers had grown into an inferno. The thought of being dominated, of being made submissive, tied to the cross and whipped was drowning his entire body in gasoline fire of passion and desire. Ben was at a point where he did not care if it was a dirty leftist dominating him, or even if it was a guy. His years of passionless, obligatory sex with his wife and the status quo of him being on top had unintentionally left him yearning for something new. 

Ben laid in bed, his hand running up and down his chest. He was trying hard to imagine his wife Jemmifer, but the mental projection would slip, and it would be Oliver bathed in red light standing over him. Ben was growing restless and needed to get out of his room, but if he left his quarters he would find himself face to face with his lust, and he could not do that, not yet.

As the hours whittled away Ben found himself thinking of Bach, Vivaldi, Chopin. Ben pretended to play the violin as a way of focusing his mind and distracting him from the sinful thoughts that consumed his body. But the mental violin playing would only distract for so long before his mind would drift, and he would imagine his hands elsewhere. 

The only thought that would subdue the desire was wondering what had happened to his wife. When he awoke after being knocked out he had searched the mess of bodies around him were the bus had plowed through but had given up when the horror became too much for his stomach. He hoped that by not finding her that it was a sign that she was still alive, but logically he had to assume that she was not. 

At this point, enough time had passed that Ben was forced to leave his room in search of dinner. 

As Ben walked out of his room, he was met with the most wonderful smell, “_meat”_ Ben thought. He was salivating at the thought of having meat. The previous meals with Oliver had been simple sandwiches and cereals and before that Ben had been eating beans out of a can in a ransacked convenience store.

Ben entered the kitchen and saw Oliver running a basting brush over juicy sausages. Each stroke over the thick piece of meat with the nylon hairs running across spreading flavor around the girth left Ben watering. “_Real food,”_ Ben thought. He couldn’t wait to suck down some sausage. Ben took a spot at the dining area, waiting eagerly to be filled. Oliver turned around “Ah! Hello Ben, it is good to see you!” Oliver said. “You have been absent for the last couple of days and I figured I would draw you out with the offer of some home-cooked food.” Oliver slapped a sausage onto a plate and handed it to Ben. 

“Ah yes, thank you, very considerate of you, thank you again”. Ben replied eagerly as he started to eat furiously. “How does it taste?” Oliver asked. “Vermmry Gooodffd” Ben replied, mouth stuffed with the tenderly cooked meat. Oliver smiled, “Well I am glad I could satisfy!” He said with a laugh.

Ben swallowed the rest of the sausages happily. Sitting in silence that accompanies a truly filling meal Ben’s mind began to wander. “_What if Oliver ran that basting brush across my cock, and then sucked on it? Or Better yet ran it across his and let me run my tongue across his hard shaft, getting each and every drop of juice”._ The intrusive thought blinded Ben. His mind was stunned but his groin wasn’t. He felt a stirring in his loins as reached a full erection and he quickly crossed his legs to hide the noticeable tent. 

Oliver noticed Ben was uncomfortable. “is everything alright Ben?” Oliver asked. Ben, not ready to answer the question, or even look at Oliver turned and started to run out of the kitchen. In Ben’s awkward and erratic movements Oliver looked at Ben’s legs to see if anything was wrong and saw a hint of a hard dick pushing against the fabric of Ben’s pants. “_Now that is interesting.”_ Oliver thought as he watched Ben run out the door. _“Very Interesting”_.

**Stiff Words**

Ben was in his room stroking his cock furiously. His eyes closed as he imagined himself, blindfolded, with Oliver behind him. In his fantasy, it was Oliver’s hand on his erect cock, and he could feel Oliver. Feel his warm breath, his tongue, and teeth as they danced across the nape of his neck, he could feel Oliver’s hard erection pressing against his ass, poking him. Ben couldn’t last much longer and with a few more strokes and a gasp, Ben’s cum sprung from his head and flowed over his hand. 

Ben sat there in orgasmic bliss. His head free and clear, his body at the most relaxed state it had been in what felt like a lifetime. In the post-ejaculation clarity that follows the male orgasm, Ben started to realize that he knew what he wanted, and he knew he had to start working to get it. 

The next several days Ben spent most of his time out with Oliver when he could. Each meal he would sit closer, and closer, he would make innocent touches here and there, looking deeper into Oliver’s gorgeous blue eyes as he spoke passionately about the worker and the oppressed of western society.

After one particularly delicious dinner, Oliver was discussing his life in England and how it has impacted his perspectives. Ben was doing his best to pay attention but he would constantly lose himself in a fantasy of Oliver tying him up with a double column knot or wrapping his body in rope as his fingers ran across Ben’s exposed body.

Ben snapped out of his daydream to find Oliver staring at him with eyebrows raised. Ben went to adjust himself and felt his rock-hard cock pressing against the seam of his pants. Before Ben could say anything, Oliver interjected “Well I am glad I have your attention somewhat” Oliver said with a laugh. Ben was a red embarrassment as he got up to retreat to his quarters Oliver grabbed him by the arm and said “No.” Ben froze. “I think you should follow me,” Oliver said in a commanding tone. Ben let Oliver lead him through the door to Oliver’s room. An infinite number of images, thoughts, and feelings ran through Ben’s head. It all ran together to create this mental static. The only thing Ben knew he was hard and dripping in anticipation.

Kilig

Ben was blindfolded, his arms and hands bound to the St. Andrews Cross. He could feel Oliver running the tip of something across his naked chest. Ben opened his mouth to ask what it was and before he could say a word Ben felt a stinging slap against his thigh. “_Ah, a whip,”_ Ben thought. Oliver was a domineering master. With every hit, Ben could feel the welts rising across his skin, but what really got Ben hard was the dirty sweet nothings Oliver would whisper in his ear. 

Oliver had stripped Ben naked using only his commands after he had led Ben into his room. Once naked, Oliver had handed Ben a leather codpiece and a blindfold. Once Ben had properly dressed for the occasion Oliver had begun wrapping rope across Ben’s almost nude body. Crisscrossing his chest and wrapping his legs, Oliver then led Ben to his own Crucifixion.

The hours that followed were a surreal fever dream. Lost in the ecstasy of the moments all Ben seemed to remember were specific scenes and seconds; Ben on his knees his rope bindings running the lengths of his arms, tieing his wrists together in a double-column before binding his legs together, an O-Ring in his mouth as Oliver put his long hard cock in and out of Ben’s mouth. Oliver’s firm hands holding Ben’s head his fingers intertwined in Ben’s dark hair, Ben’s tongue running across Oliver’s head and shaft, the feeling of Oliver’s warm seed hitting the back of Ben's throat and filling his mouth. 

That scene left Ben’s mind as he reoriented himself. Ben found himself bathed in red light; soft soviet music played in the background. He was bent over a table, his hands bound in front of him, a ball gag in his mouth. Ben felt the cold metal of a spreader bar on his ankles. Ben knew what was coming and his hard cock was dripping at the thought. Suddenly he felt Oliver looming over him, his hard cock pressed against Ben’s rear. Oliver was lubing himself and Ben up when Oliver leaned over to Ben’s ear “I hope you are ready for the climax” he whispered coarsely. Oliver than bit Ben’s neck and licked and kissed down his back as he worked himself into Ben’s tight ass to the music of a swelling tuba solo. 

Ben felt as if he was on fire but at the same time had never felt more alive. As the pain gave way to pleasure, he moaned into his gag, drool running down his chin onto the table. Oliver had worked himself in and started to rock his body back and forth. At the apex of each thrust, there was a slap as Oliver’s sac hit Ben’s stern. Ben grunted and moaned through the gag though it was a muffled noise compared to the Russian orchestra. 

Oliver reached around to Ben’s dripping cock and began stroking it in sync with his thrusts. Ben could not handle it, all this stimulation; Oliver’s girth in him, Oliver’s kisses and bites, Oliver’s hands around his cock, the tuba, it was too much for Ben and he came, he came hard. His seed over coating Oliver’s hand in the process. 

Oliver stopped. Ben laid there huffing and puffing, he felt Oliver’s warm cum land on his back. Ben moaned with pleasure. 

Oliver pulled the gag aside and told Ben to open his mouth. Ben obliged and Oliver stuffed two cum soaked fingers into Ben’s mouth. “Lick it clean” Oliver commanded. Ben obliged tasting the salty mixture while running his tongue over every inch of Oliver’s fingers. “Do you taste that?” Oliver asked. That is what you and I taste like together. Ben groaned, the thought and act was beyond arousing to him, he almost got hard again. 

When he finished Oliver pulled his fingers out, untied Ben, and lead him to Oliver’s bed.

####  La douleur exquise

Ben lay in Olly’s arms, his head resting against Olly’s chest listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. The last several hours had wiped him out. He felt nothing but the warmth of Olly’s body against his. “Olly,” Ben said quietly. Olly was silent for a moment.

“I don’t love you” Oliver replied. 

Ben was shaken, “B…Bu…But” he stammered. Ben couldn’t believe it, all these weeks talking, laughing, bonding and bondage, was for nothing?

“Why not?” Ben replied, anger creeping around the edge of his voice. “After all of this, how can you not?”. Tears were close to Ben’s eyes as he felt rage and melancholy rising inside him.

“It is quite simple really,” Oliver said. “You obviously hadn’t been paying attention to what I have been saying the last month. My words about the right-wing groups their terrible ideas, my pro-life stance and the talking points around it, the danger of corporations and the fallacies of the economic system they defend through political action. You have paid attention to none of that, you barely offered any form of discussion. You would agree haphazardly or argue at random points but for the most part, you stared at me like I was a piece of meat” Oliver Thorn retorted. 

Ben stammered. “that is not true I..I ..I…” Ben was flummoxed. He had no way to reply to Oliver Thorn.

Oliver staring at him continued “You saw me like a piece of meat so I treated you like one, you thought you got what you wanted but if you had been paying any iota of attention you would have realized that in there, in that room that is all I saw you as.” Oliver said coldly. 

Ben said nothing, he just stared blankly.

“I think it is time you left, the purge is over, I am sure you can go find your wife and go back to your life where you rage aimlessly on the internet talking fast and saying nothing”

Exit

Ben Walked out of the bunker to a different world. He knew that things would never be the same. What had happened this past month had shaken him to his core_. “I need to find Jemmifer”_ he thought. His thoughts continued to run in the background of his head, all those tender moments with…**_him_**...all those moments he had thought were tender. Ben knew nothing and he finally realized it. Ben stepped out of the alleyway into a ruined London, he felt so alone, so empty. But in the setting sun, Ben saw his shadow and decided to head west to wear the concert had originally been and his shadow followed him through the ruined city, at least he wouldn’t be alone.


End file.
